Little Girl
by Lola864
Summary: She was nothing without him. A hollow shell, a blank canvas.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the Harry Potter world. I do, however own the song Little Girl and it is ©2004 to me.

She sat on her bed, surrounded by darkness. The only light was the shining end of her wand, as dim as she could make it. A piece of parchment sat in front of her, covered in the scribbles of last week's homework. The quill in her hand had plenty of ink, but her mind didn't want to put together some sort of order to put her words into.

She thought of him. He was beautiful in her eyes. They were eyes that gazed at him day after day. He was always busy doing something else, something better. She was simply a small detail in his world. Hugging her arms around herself, tears found their way down her face. Silence reigned around her, and she was a part of it, making no sound. A stranger. That's how she felt to him, to herself even.

The parchment found words being written down, fast and furious even as they were blotted with tears.

She sang, her voice barely a whisper._ "Oh little girl cries softly,_

_She must never make a sound._

_She tells me all the things she feels,_

_But never moves her mouth._

_I just want to pick her up,_

_And tell her it's all right,_

_But she won't let me touch her,_

_I have to watch her fight."_

Someone stirred. Wand immediately thrown under her pillow, she grabbed the parchment and pulled the covers up to her head. Only when deepest black and silence blanketed the room did she sit up again.

He was all she thought about. All she wanted, everything she could remember wanting. Last year, she had tricked herself into thinking he wasn't meant for her. She barely even knew him, how could she be sure he was so great for her? For the first time since she had met him, she was happy. She convinced herself, day after day that this was right. Being with him would never happen. She had to move on. What a mess that was. Again, quill met parchment as she tried to scribble him away.

"_Oh the dark haired boys never love her back,_

_She cries and cries but he'll never see,_

_It will be a year not long from now,_

_Since she ever felt,_

_As if she could look up,_

_Instead of looking down."_

All the tears she had never cried, everything. It was all bottled up inside. A choked sob burst from her as she buried her face in her pillow. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She should be with him, not here all alone. She was cold, cold and alone. Her voice was all that she had.

_"She tells me all the things she feels,_

_But she never moves her mouth._

_And the dark haired boys never feel the same,_

_Break the silence make a sound._

_Never wanted to be lonely,_

_Never thought she would be._

_But little girl can't help it,_

_She can't believe her eyes."_

A fist met her pillow, landing dangerously near her ink bottle. Why couldn't he see? They were perfect for each other, beyond all. She knew, she had known from the moment she heard his name, his voice, saw his face, felt his skin meet her own.

"_Ooh, little girl he loves you._

_Ooh, little girl does he not?_

_His eyes they just confuse you,_

_but keep looking on and never looking back._

_She tells me all the things she feels,_

_But she never moves her mouth._

_And the dark haired boys never feel the same,_

_Break the silence make a sound._

_Never wanted to be lonely,_

_Never thought she would be._

_But little girl can't help it,_

_She can't believe her eyes."_

She was nothing without him. A hollow shell, a blank canvas. The volume of her voice increase as she cried, invisible forever to the one thing she could see.

"_Anonymous, please make a sound,_

_Anonymous, please make a sound,_

_Anonymous, please make a sound,_

_Anonymous, please make a sound._

_Ooh the dark haired boys never love you back."_

She ripped the parchment in shreds. The ink bottle flew out of her hand, landing, broken and seeping ink on her carpet. Soon it was joined by the quill.

She screamed. Ginny Weasley screamed for Harry Potter, the center of her universe. Ginny Weasley screamed for the love that would never be.

A/N: Love it? Hate it? Review and let me know. Candy will be given! (I'm not to high for bribery.)


	2. Betaed Version

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the Harry Potter world. I do, however own the song Little Girl and it is ©2004 to me.

She sat on her bed, surrounded by darkness. The only light was the shining end of her wand, as dim as she could make it. A piece of parchment sat in front of her, covered in the scribbles of last week's homework. The quill in her hand held plenty of ink, but her mind didn't want to put her words into some semblance of order.

She thought of him. He was beautiful in her eyes; eyes that gazed at him, day after day. He was always busy doing something else, something

better. She was simply a small detail in his world. Hugging her arms around

herself, tears found their way down her face. Silence reigned around her,

and she was a part of it, making no sound. A stranger. That's how she felt

to him, to herself even.

The parchment found words, fast and furious even as they

were blotted with tears.

She sang, her voice barely a whisper. _"Oh, little girl cries softly,_

_She must never make a sound._

_She tells me all the things she feels,_

_But never moves her mouth._

_I just want to pick her up,_

_And tell her it's all right,_

_But she won't let me touch her,_

_I have to watch her fight."_

Someone stirred. Immediately throwing her wand under her pillow, she snatched up the parchment and pulled the covers up to her head. Only when the deepest black silence blanketed the room once again did she finally crawl out from under the covers.

He was all she thought about. All she wanted, everything she could remember. Last year, she had tricked herself into thinking he wasn't meant for her. She barely even knew him; how could she be sure he was so great for her? For the first time since she had met him, she was happy. She convinced herself, day after day, that this was right. Being with him would never happen. She had to move on. What a mess that was. Again, quill met parchment as she tried to scribble him away.

"_Oh, the dark haired boys never love her back,_

_She cries and cries but he'll never see,_

_It will be a year not long from now,_

_Since she ever felt,_

_As if she could look up,_

_Instead of looking down."_

All the tears she had never cried, everything. It was all bottled up inside. A choked sob burst from her as she buried her face in her pillow. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She should be with him, not here all alone. She was cold, cold and alone. Her voice was all that she had.

"_She tells me all the things she feels,_

_But never moves her mouth._

_And the dark haired boys never feel the same, _

_So break the silence, make a sound._

_Never wanted to be lonely,_

_Never thought she would be._

_But the little girl can't help it,_

_She can't believe her eyes."_

A fist met her pillow, landing dangerously near her ink bottle. Why couldn't he see? They were perfect for each other. She knew, had known, from the moment she heard his name, his voice, saw his face, felt his skin meet her own.

"_Ooh, little girl, he loves you._

_Ooh, little girls does he not?_

_His eyes, they just confuse you,_

_Keep looking on and never looking back._

_She tells me all the things she feels,_

_But never moves her mouth._

_And the dark haired boys never feel the same,_

_So break the silence, make a sound._

_Never wanted to be lonely,_

_Never thought she would be._

_But the little girl can't help it,_

_She can't believe her eyes."_

She was nothing without him. A hollow shell, a blank canvas. The volume of her voice increase as she cried, invisible forever to the one thing she could see.

"_Anonymous, please make a sound,_

_Anonymous, please make a sound,_

_Anonymous, please make a sound,_

_Anonymous, please make a sound._

_Ooh, the dark haired boys never love you back."_

She ripped the parchment into shreds. The ink bottle flew out of her hand,

landing in pieces, slowly seeping ink onto the cold stone floor. Cold like her heart. Soon it was joined by the quill.

She screamed. She screamed, not caring if she woke up the whole of Hogwarts. Ginny Weasley screamed for Harry Potter, the center of her universe. Ginny Weasley screamed for the love that would never be.

A/N: Well there you have it, the betaed version of this fic. Not much was changed, but personally I think it flows much better now. And guess what? That means there's TW/o chapters now, and TWICE as much reason for you to review!


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